


What Goes Around...Comes Around

by Bdoyle1807



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Humor, Illness, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nightmares, Recovery, gluteral injection, mild violence, surviving abuse, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdoyle1807/pseuds/Bdoyle1807
Summary: Skye's been having nightmares and May intends to find out why.  The answers send her on a mission to seek revenge.  Meanwhile Skye fights a stomach bug and Jemma's attempt to help remedy it.





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters but these ideas won't stay out of my head so I have to put them to paper...cyber paper. This story in particular helped me deal with a similar experience, one I've never buried but came to terms with in my own manner. What we survive makes us strong.

I.

Dark…too dark to see…too dark to run…to run safely…to get away…

Her breathing was rapid. She tried desperately to control it, to make it stop, to make it quiet. She threw her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt but her nose made just as much noise. She tried not to cry. That would be worse. Then he would hear. Then he would know. Then he would find her. Even in the dark.

She pressed her body against the cold wall, feeling it through the thin nightshirt that barely reached her knees. The floor, just as cold, stung her bare feet and she stepped carefully, fighting the urge to run, fighting the urge to scream.

But he was coming. She could hear him…breathing heavy and hungry. She could smell the stale liquor that was him…the motor oil and engine grease that stained his hands…the sickening scent of the sweet aftershave he splashed on thinking it would hide the rest.

She stifled the gag, pressing one hand to her mouth and the other to her stomach. ‘Please, please not again, not now.’ She silently prayed to any deity listening. 

She slid along the wall in this unfamiliar place, searching for anywhere, any place to hide. Any place to wait for the sun to come and take him away. He’d leave her alone in the light…when the others were awake…when he’d have to go off to work on his cars and drink his drink until the dark came again.

Her small hand felt the corner of the wall. She’d come to the end. Maybe it was the hall that lead to the back door…maybe the hall to his workshop…not there…

She squeezed the tears out of her eyes and swallowed the sob that tried to escape, making a small mewling sound. And she knew, even before she heard his soft hum that he had found her.

The floor creaked slowly as his heavy footsteps approached and she froze against the wall willing her icy cold feet to move, to just slip around the corner and disappear. She could just make out his shape in the moonless dark. A few more steps…little more than an arm's reach… She knew he was smiling that yellow-tooth nicotine smile. She knew it wasn’t a kind smile, not even a real smile…it was like that clown, that mean clown that took away children in that movie she snuck in to watch last summer. 

She moved, a breath before his rough hand snatched her arm, skidding around the corner, hoping against hope that the back door was unlocked and she could escape, even without clothes or shoes…escape… 

A smaller but just as calloused hand grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck as she crashed into the solid body blocking her way to the door. Behind her, she heard him stop…heard him slide against the wall to hide in the quiet darkness. His breathing slowed, quieted with practiced ease and she heard him softly pad farther away.

But this other hand, this violent hand shook her hard…so hard she bit her tongue and swallowed the blood lest it drip on the pristine floor. She heard the swish of the belt…

“Noooo…” Skye sat up quickly, slamming her palm against the switch that threw her small bunk unto bright fluorescent light. She took several deep breaths as she balled the tangled blanket into her tight fists.

The door swished open causing her to jump, pulling the blankets protectively up to her chin. She almost laughed at herself for such a childish, useless reaction and stared wide-eyed into the narrowed eyes that stared back at her. 

May stepped inside and allowed the door to close silently behind her, somehow not so intimidating in a baggy T-shirt and shabby grey sweats. Skye’s eyes followed her, never moving her blanket shield from its place. She stood at the foot of the bed. 

“Everything okay?” She inquired without emotion.

Skye nodded then corrected herself knowing how much Melinda May hated wordless responses. “I…yeah…” she cleared her throat hoping to lower the pitch of her voice. “I’m…no…yeah, it’s good.” She nodded as she rubbed the soft edge of the blanket under her nose, secretly hoping May did not notice the tears she had yet to wipe away.

May did that thing with her lips that she always did when she knew Skye was not being totally truthful and nodded almost imperceptibly. She waited, folding her hands gracefully in front of her.

Skye took a deep breath which turned into more of a shaky sniffle and tried to smile at this odd visitor to her bunk, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes and it didn’t fool Melinda May. “It was just a dream…” She huffed, trying more to convince herself than her SO.

“Sounded like a nightmare.” May retorted, raising an eyebrow at the young agent in training.

“Nightmare, dream…same thing.” Skye shrugged her shoulders.

“Then why the defense?” May inquired, reaching up and gently pulling the blanket from Skye’s grip. She sat on the foot of the bed. 

The girl quickly wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her own baggy shirt. “Well…well, how was I to know who was poking around and inviting themselves into my bunk at this hour?”

May rolled her eyes and subtly shook her head. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

Skye let out a sigh pulling her blanket back and wrapping her still shaking hands inside. “It was just a bad dream, May. No biggie.”

Again May stared deep into the girl’s eyes until Skye had to look away, absently wringing her hands under the blanket. “Fourth night in a row, but who’s counting?”

Skye’s head popped up. She opened her mouth but was cut off.

“Third time since we landed outside of Sacramento, if you count that little catnap you had on the plane right before. Four counting the night Coulson told us we had job here.”

Skye pulled her legs up and crossed them in front of her. May was good, but she had her own nightmares as well. Heck it was 3 a.m. and the woman was wide awake. Must have been all the other times as well. “Don’t you sleep?” Skye blurted out as the thought left her mind through her mouth. The corners of her mouth turned down and she cringed, waiting for her superior’s retort.

May glared for an instant before nodding. She stood and moved toward the door. “Let’s go.” She announced as the door opened. It wasn’t a request and Skye knew that, but it was 3:00 IN THE MORNING! 

“May…” Skye whined as she untangled herself from her blankets.

“Or…I could beat it out of you…” May smirked without turning around.

Skye froze for a second. She laughed a small silent laugh. “Funny,” she remarked to herself then realized Melinda May never joked, never teased…she only said what she had to and that she meant. The girl pulled her foot from the bedding that had tumbled to the floor and practically fell into the hallway to follow the senior agent.

The base was quiet, dark…almost scary. Skye shook off the remnants of her latest, long forgotten recurring nightmare and hurried to catch up with May who had disappeared into the galley. She stopped in the doorway and watched as her SO drew a mug from the shelf and set it on the table then lifted the small china pot and poured steaming liquid into it. She pulled out the chair in front of the mug and commanded one word. “Sit.”

It was quiet and gentle, but a command none the less, and Skye obeyed, uncharacteristically, but now she was curious, excited even. This is what May did during the night. Snuck around like a stealthy mama cat watching over all the others onboard. Oh, did she have something to tell Jemma at breakfast. This was a whole new program their resident robot was exhibiting.

“It’s tea.” May remarked dryly, nodding toward the cup.

Skye tried unsuccessfully to wipe the smile from her face and sat up straight. “Oh…oh, yeah, tea…that’s, that’s, that’s…n-nice.” She stuttered, finally pulling the warm mug to her lips and taking a sip if only to shut her self up. It was warm and sweet, with a hint of what…ginger?. She smiled and took a longer drink.

May did the same, hiding the smile on her lips but not the one that reached her eyes. Luckily, Skye was not paying much attention. Something her SO was working on with the girl. Read everything and everyone. You need to be aware of everything in your surroundings. She’d told the girl over and over, hoping somehow it would sink in. But it was before dawn and Skye had been wracked with nightmares for almost a week. She’d give her some slack…on that topic.  
“You wanna talk about it?” May asked over her mug.

Skye swallowed her tea. “It?” 

“The nightmare.”

Skye smiled again and shook her head. “I told you it was just a dream…wake up and poof, it’s gone.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis. Then quickly picked up the mug and took another drink.

May watched. She watched how the girl bounced the ball of her foot under the table, how she glanced to the darkened room outside the galley door, how she flinched just a hair when the clock on the stove clicked a bit louder in the early morning silence. In fact she seemed overly aware of every little creak and squeak the Bus made, those that no one noticed during the hustle of the day. The small beads of sweat still lingered on her forehead and her damp hair clung to the sides of her face and neck. Her clothes, twisted and wrinkled, were testament to the tossing and turning that had been part of her nightly turmoil. Her breathing was not quite normal despite her continued attempts to slow it down. May could see the pulsing of the veins in her neck and temple that gave away her rapid pulse. No this was much more than a simple dream, even more than a nightmare…it was one rooted in memory...in trauma. May knew more than she cared to know about that type nightmare, much more.

“Skye,” she tried to keep her voice gentle, even. “We both know you’re lying and we both know how much I detest lying.”

“I’m na-ha-hot…” Skye breathed, leaning forward then pulling back. “That would be…just be silly…why would I lie about a silly dream. Pishaw!” She waved a hand in front of her, turned sideways and picked up her mug to take another sip.

May sat back, drawing her arms across her chest. “I know a lot about nightmares, Skye, a lot more than you might think.” Skye swallowed her tea and blinked, chewing her bottom lip as she set the cup on the table again. May leaned forward, without moving her arms and said just above a whisper. “And I know when you’re lying to me.”

Skye let out a long breath and nibbled on her thumb nail. 

‘Another tell,’ Melinda smiled to herself.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Skye’s voice was small, almost childlike.

“That’s a start.” May retorted. At Skye’s confused look she continued. “You admit there’s an   
it to talk about.”

Skye shook her head. “No, no…it was just a dream, just a dream…it goes away,” she stared into the darkness outside the galley door. Balling her hand into a tight fist, she bounced it on her knee and to herself repeated, “It always goes away.”

May watched as the girl rocked back and forth. “You’ve had this dream, this nightmare before.” It wasn’t a question.

“But it goes away. It goes away. It always does.” She looked at May now, unshed tears in her eyes, her false bravado fading. She didn’t want to tell May her haunting secret. She’d never told anyone, never. But, there she was, right there asking all the right questions and the answers were spilling out. She couldn’t control them. She couldn’t contain them. She trusted May. May would keep her secret. May would not judge.

“It doesn’t go away, Skye.” May set her mug on the table and waited for the girl to meet her eyes. “It just waits for you to remember again.”

“Remember?” Skye looked away as if she’d been stung. “No…no, there’s nothing to remember…it’s just…just a stupid dream…a dumb kid’s nightmare…a silly, stupid…” She was no longer speaker to May but to the floor, wringing her hands as she did. It was what she told herself over and over ever since…ever since… and every time the memory crept to the surface, every time something reminded her, every time the nightmares came back. Trying now to convince herself, to force herself to believe there was no reality to match this scenario.

May stood and moved to Skye, squatting in front of her and taking the girls trembling hands in her own. Skye slid from the chair to the floor, landing on her knees. May caught her before she completely collapsed. She lowered them both to the floor and held the trembling girl to her, wishing she had allowed someone to do the same for her. She would not let this girl make that same mistake. 

“It couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t have. It couldn’t have happened.” Skye raised her head and pleaded with her SO, shaking her head with every sentence. May nodded for every toss of the girl’s head. “No! No, it shouldn’t have happened.” She collapsed again into May’s embrace and May felt that perhaps she had taken on more than she could manage. She wasn’t the one for this. This was Couslon’s area, but he slept like a log, night after night in deep, relaxing sleep. And she hated him for it.

Skye slid down until she rested her head in May’s lap, her sobs slowly turning into sniffles. May managed to snag a napkin from the table above them and offered it to her. As the girl calmed, her SO absently began running her fingers through the damp hair, brushing it away from her face. When she was sure Skye had calmed enough she pulled both of them up and moved to the couch in the common room, flicking on the soft nighttime lights.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, May pushing back against the cushions as Skye perched on the edge of the seat. The older agent watched as the younger drew shaky breaths, knowing she was now reliving a memory rather than hashing out a convoluted nightmare.

The mind does such weird things to us in sleep. It takes memories and twists them into strange almost “Alice in Wonderland” terms. May knew that from experience. Happy memories could be turned inside out and upside down. Anxieties could have you delivering your graduation speech in your underwear or trying to make it through the school day with no shoes. Terrifying memories could be turned into demonic savages that ate away at you until you could not tell what really happened and what the nightmares turned it into. 

Skye would not go there. She would stop this now.

Reaching forward, May put a hand on Skye’s shoulder and the girl fell back, needing only that small bit of permission to resume the comfort of May’s embrace. She pulled her feet onto the couch curling up next to the older agent, resting her head against her shoulder. She shuddered softly as May wrapped her arms around her pulling her closer.

“You’re safe now.” She breathed across the top of Skye’s head. “It can’t hurt you. You survived it when it happened. You will survive now.” Phil Coulson had said those same words to her so many years ago, but she turned away. She thought he’d given up, but there he was dragging her onto this bus, with these kids, with THIS kid. He’d never give up. Never

Skye nodded and took a deep breath. “It was here, here in Sacramento…I haven’t been here since. Never wanted to see this place again. Never.”

May combed her fingers through the girl’s hair and rested her chin on Skye’s head. She had a dire feeling about where this was going and she fought to keep her own emotions at bay.

“I wasn’t there long. Only a week, maybe two, not long.” Skye began hesitantly. “The house was clean, real clean but it smelled like…like a garage.” She shook her hands in front of her. “Like oil or grease or tires or something.” She drew a ragged breath. “They had an older daughter…Linda, no, no Lisa….Lydia, Lydia… She was about sixteen, I guess, I never really knew. She just told me she was too old.”

Melinda’s hand stopped and she swallowed the turning in her stomach. Skye stopped and turned to look at her. “It’s okay,” She whispered and continued playing with the girl’s hair, helping her to relax.

Skye remained silent and May feared she had once again buried her thoughts, refusing to let go of the dreadful memory that had haunted her for who knew how long. 

“She never smiled.” Skye broke the silence. “She stayed in her room most of the time.” She grew quiet again. “The first night…that first night…” Skye’s voice cracked with unspent tears. “He came into my room…in the dark…he said he didn’t want me to be afraid…all alone in a strange place…” She sobbed and May hugged her tightly, using every ounce of her ability to control her breathing, her rage at where this was going.

“He got on the bed next to me and I moved away…but he pulled me back…and…” May heard Skye’s voice catch and willed herself to remain calm, to continue softly rubbing her shoulder. “I stood up and told him I wasn’t afraid and I wasn’t a baby.” Her voice a bit stronger now as she balled her hand into a fist and softly tapped May’s knee. “He tried to pull me back again…and…and…I bit him.” She turned to look into May’s eyes, wanting her to know she fought back. “Hard, I bit him hard on his arm. I bet he still has a scar. I bet he does.” And she was sobbing again, into May’s chest, held tightly…safely.

‘That’s my girl,’ she smiled but May only made soft shushing noises, surprising herself more than her charge. “How old were you, Skye? Do you remember?”

Skye sniffed and wiped her nose with the napkin she still held. “Eight...” She answered turning away from May. The older agent cringed. “Maybe nine…” Skye corrected as she slid down to rest her head in May’s lap for a second time. She was quiet, her breathing ragged as she remembered. “There was a picture of a horse on the wall in that bedroom. It must have won some race because it had one of those rose horseshoe kinda thingies around its neck.” There was a long pause. “That’s a weird thing to remember, isn’t it?”

May squeezed her shoulder and Skye knew she understood.

“The wife just wanted everything to be clean. I think the girl, Lydia, stayed in her room because her mom was always telling her she was dirty and she needed to be clean. She’d look at me and tell me I better stay clean too. She made me wash my hands over and over and I had to take two baths every day.” Skye blurted out this information in one breath. May knew she was avoiding the real issue, but she was talking. “I hated the night more than the cleaning. I started sleeping under the bed. He was too big. He didn’t fit there.”

May held in the growl that threatened to escape, imagining a tiny Skye hiding in terror from this animal and no one to protect her, no one for her even to hope to protect her. She pulled the girl closer.

“But he was strong and he lifted the mattress right off the bed and pulled me out. He told me he paid for that bed and I was going to sleep in it…even if he had to sleep with me to make sure. He…he squeezed me so tight…I didn’t think I could breathe. Then he let go and put me in the bed…but…but…” The tears came fast and although she didn’t want to she started to sob again. May started to pull her up but she waved her off. “No…I have to keep going. I can’t if I have to look at you.” Skye kept her head turned away…embarrassed…ashamed.

“Skye…Skye, it wasn’t your fault…you were only a little girl. He never sh…” May began.

“Please, May…” she held up a hand. “Please let me finish.”

May nodded and rubbed the girl’s shoulder again.

“He kept his hand on my chest so I couldn’t go anywhere. He told me we were going to be very good friends and then there was a loud crash and someone turned on a light. He pushed his hand against my mouth so hard that my lips started to bleed. He told me not to say a word and then he was gone. There was a lot of noise outside, people yelling and cursing. I hid in the closet as far back as I could, but he didn’t come back that night.” Skye let out a long breath and drew it back. “I didn’t see him for a few days. Nobody said where he was and I didn’t ask. Then I got sick.” She pushed herself up and sat next to May, folding her legs criss-cross in front of her. “I guess it was some kind of stomach bug because I threw-up…a lot. And that got the wife in a real tizzy, being all clean and tidy and all. I made a mess in the kitchen and again in the bathroom. She had to clean it and she was like a maniac. She whipped me with a belt or something for being dirty.” 

May’s blood was boiling. She was already plotting how to find these people and make them pay for hurting this kid…her kid. But for now, she’d remain stoically calm…for her kid.

“I stayed in the bedroom they let me use the rest of the day. The wife gave me this old shirt to wear, nothing else. I think it was some kind of cleaning rag. It smelled like Pledge, which didn’t really help my upset stomach. She said that way she could just throw it away and not have to deal with it. She gave me a bucket and told me where to empty it and NOT to make anymore mess or she’d have the rest of my hide.” Skye sucked in a breath and steeled herself to go on. “I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up it was dark and I’d already thrown up all over the bed. I thought I could take care of it myself. She took all the blankets and sheets and left me with some kind of drop cloth stuff that smelled like him.” 

Again, May swallowed her ire this time feeling her temperature rise. She held Skye close with one arm while the other rolled into a fist so tight her nails dug into her palm.

“I opened the door…I just wanted to get to the bathroom…and there he was…standing there with that awful smile.” Skye dropped her face into her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. She shook her head, her voice small and child-like. “I tried to shut the door…but he was too strong…too fast. He pushed it open and I wanted to get away but…but…I just stood there.” She fell forward, pulling herself into a tight ball, sobbing into her hands. “Why didn’t I run? Try to get away?”

May pulled the girl closer, until her head rested against the older woman’s chest. “You were a child, Skye. And you were terrified…”

“But, I should have tried!” Skye almost screamed. “I knew better, I did.” She nodded her head and tried to push away, but May held her fast. “The older kids at St. Agnes, they told us about men like him…told us to run and scream and fight. But I just froze…I froze, May.” She looked up at her SO. “I was a coward…”

May brushed the hair from the girl’s face. “You were nine-years-old…you were a baby and he was a monster.” She corrected quietly, but inside she already planned this piece of filth’s fate.

Skye stared for a moment and shook her head before turning away. She took several deep breaths and grew quiet. She rested against May’s chest not caring who would find out or what they would say. She listened to the soft thumping of May’s heartbeat and thought ‘this is what it would be like to have a mother…a mother like…’ But she wouldn’t let the thought complete itself. 

She could stop now. She wanted to stop. May would not force her to go on if she didn’t want to continue. May would understand. But she was almost there…almost past the awful truth of it. She drew a long shaky breath and felt May’s arms tighten around her shoulders.

“He pulled me out of the room and into the bathroom.” Skye said quickly, because if she didn’t it might not come out at all. “He said he wanted to help me get cleaned up and I felt so sick and I was crying and he said to stop and that he would make me feel better.” She was rambling, falling over the words that poured from her. “But, but I couldn’t stop and he…he…said we had to get rid of my messed up clothes so…so…he…he…” 

Her crying made it almost impossible to understand what she was saying, but May knew this was the apex of the memory, the worst of it. This would be the hardest, for both of them and for as much as she wanted to stop Skye’s pain; May knew the best thing was for her to go through it. Relive it and then heal, move past it and grow because of, if not in spite of it. She hugged her a little tighter, but remained silent.

Skye squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered, not sure if she was trying to push the memory away or bring it into focus. She picked at the napkin she still held, now just a wad of damp stringy paper but she wiped her nose anyway. She felt the bile rise in her throat and knew she was going to vomit pushing away from her safety net and grabbing a nearby waste basket just in time. She fully expected the stoic May to be repulsed and to finally remove herself from this insane situation, but the woman just rubbed her back and held her hair away from her face then took the bucket away. She helped the girl lay back on the couch and stepped away, returning with a cool rag, a cup of water and a clean bucket. Skye was grateful for each. 

May sat back in her space and Skye inched back into hers. “I’m really sorry, May…I…” The older woman merely shook her head and pulled the girl back to her chest, rubbing small circles on her back and resting her chin atop Skye’s head. May was sure she was trying to calm herself as much as she was the girl. They sat in silence, listening to the hum of the Bus’ engines and the soft plinks of the night noises around them.

“He took my clothes.” Skye whispered almost imperceptivity into May’s shirt. “I had nothing.” May swallowed hard and forced herself calm. “He touched me, May.” She could barely be heard, even in the silence. “And I let him…”

May pushed the girl away in order to look at her. She held Skye’s face in her hands. “You DID NOT let him do anything. He was three times your size. You were helpless, Skye.” 

The girl’s eyes closed and she swallowed hard. “I was a child.” She whispered.

May nodded and pulled her close again.

“He said he was going to get me cleaned up and he got a rag and some soap and made me stand on the toilet lid and I was crying so much and he kept shushing me and saying I would like it. But I didn’t like him near me or touching me. I pushed his hand and he pulled my arm so hard and got so close to me.” Skye felt her stomach lurch again.

May’s blood boiled. She gritted her teeth so hard she bit the inside of her cheek and swallowed the coppery taste it created. She breathed as deep as she could without alarming the girl resting against her. Yes, they had completed their mission here in Sacramento and Coulson had given everyone a few days R&R, she knew exactly what she’d use that time to do.

“When he was done…after he cleaned me up…he, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to my room…and…and, Lydia…” Skye stopped for a moment and wrinkled her brow, remembering something she hadn’t in the past. “Lydia opened her door. She looked right at me, right at me…even though he was trying to keep me behind him. She looked right at me.” She seemed to be telling herself this rather that May. “He yelled something at her…told her to get back to bed…to shut her door and mind her business. I…think…I think I might have said help…but maybe I just thought it. She…just looked at me and closed her door.” Skye said the last with an air of disbelief almost asking herself how the teen could do such a thing.

After a long pause she continued. “He threw me into the bedroom and slammed the door. Why didn’t anyone hear? Why didn’t the wife…” Realization dawned on the girl and anger overtook her. “She knew!” She pulled herself up and turned to face her SO. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeves, sniffling as she swallowed her tears. “She knew and she didn’t do anything! She just let him…” The memory of what he did shadowed her anger and her voice caught in a sob. “She just let him…why…why would she let him…” She slid back to May and let the tears flow again. “He pushed me down on the bed and then he was over me on his hands and knees and I tried to wriggled away but he held my wrists above my head with one of his hands and…I…felt him touch my leg…my…”

May wasn’t sure she could hold her anger any longer, wasn’t sure she could hear anymore of this nightmare memory. She closed her eyes still gently rubbing Skye’s back with one hand while the nails of the other dug into the leather of the couch. She barely heard Skye continue.

“There was a crash, glass smashing and things falling. He pushed away from me and I rolled off the bed and crawled into the corner. He went out the door and the noise was louder, all kinds of smashing and there was yelling and I could hear the wife, but the smashing just got louder and louder. I grabbed clothes and went out the window and I just kept running. I didn’t even know where I was going, but I ran and ran. They found me a couple days later in the park and took me back to St. Agnes’. They never told me what happened… I never told them …I got paddled for running away.”

Skye wept tears of terror, tears of anger and finally tears of relief. May let her, silently reassuring her and keeping her safe, cradling her, gently rocking the way that all mothers do when their child is hurt and needs comforting. The girl finally gave into exhaustion falling asleep with her head in May’s lap, but not before she gave May one name…Boshette.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May begins her hunt for the man who hurt Skye

II

May had carefully and quietly slipped away before the others woke, placing a pillow under Skye’s head and covering her with a blanket from her bunk. She placed Skye’s laptop on the floor next to her. Everyone would simply think the girl had fallen asleep doing some late night ‘hacking’. Everything else would be their secret. 

Before anyone was awake, May had cleaned up the common room and the galley, showered, dressed and found her way to one of the high schools she had on her short list. She’d narrowed it down to seven, crossing out all private and religious affiliated schools. This was number five. She pushed the dark rimmed glasses she’d donned up on her nose and pushed the buzzer at the entrance. Giving the quick cover story she’d contrived she entered and made her way to the office placing the folder she carried on the counter and smiling at the middle-aged secretary on the other side.

“I’m looking for a woman who might have attended here between 2000 and 2004, last name was Boshette. Not sure of the first name… possibly Linda or Lydia.”

The secretary eyed her over her own dark rimmed glasses and frowned. “And you’re searching for this woman because of some medical need?”

“Yes, her mother is very ill. She’d like to see her daughter before... well; I just hope it isn’t too late already.” May used her most sympathetic tone.

“Hmmm…” The woman replied as she turned toward the computer on her desk, typing in a quick search. She watched the screen as it flicked through several possible matches seemingly ignoring May in the process.

May drummed her fingers on the counter and controlled her breathing, smiling at others who filed in and out of the large office collecting mail or dropping off notes and messages. A claxon set off followed by several loud slams of heavy doors banging against walls and the sounds of herds of teenagers filled the halls. A few wandered in and out of the office, one plopping himself down outside a large double door dropping a yellow slip of paper in another receptionist’s hand before doing so. 

“Trouble.” May huffed to herself. What was taking so long? 

The secretary’s chair creaked as she rose and strode back to the counter holding a few sheets of paper. “I apologize for the wait,” she began. “Our printer is a bit out dated, budget cuts you know.” She slid the paper across the counter. “No Linda or Lydia, but there was Lyla Broschette here in 2001 and 2002.” She emphasized the difference in the name May had given, eyeing her suspiciously, then continued. “Left suddenly, not a lot of information and nothing on where she went from here. Couldn’t have graduated though, says she was a sophomore.” 

May took the forms and glanced at them. “This address is where she lived at the time.”

The secretary took the form back and looked. “Yes, that’s right. I believe it’s on the east end, near the park. I wasn’t here back then, but you might want to talk to Charlotte Ebberly, the school nurse. She’s been here since the 90’s. She should be in her office. Left out the door, left at the end of the hall, last door on the right.”

With that she dismissed the agent and turned toward the miscreant on the bench against the wall.

“So what is it this time, Phillip?”

May hid the smirk as she exited the office and made her way to the medical office. The hallway was quiet once again as all students had made their way into their respective classrooms. She pushed open the door and stepped inside immediately hit with the smell of antiseptic. A small white-haired woman sat at an immaculately clean desk. She looked up and smiled at the agent.

“Well, I know you’re not a student and I don’t recognize you as a teacher… substitute perhaps? It is a difficult job. I’ll get the aspirin.” She rose and moved toward a tall white cabinet, pulling a set of keys from her pocket.

“No.” May began calmly. “I don’t work here. I was sent by the office. I’m looking for information on a former student.” She handed the paper to the nurse. “I was told you might remember something about her.”

The woman eyed May suspiciously as she took the form. “And you are?” She inquired.

“I apologize.” May began again extending her hand. “Lain Chan, I represent Ms Broschett’s mother. She’s not well.”

The nurse shook the offered hand. “Miss Chan.” She lifted her wire rim glasses and skimmed over the paper in her hand. She walked away and then back as if pacing and hummed a bit as she read. “Lyla’s mother is dying? And she wants to see her?” She stared at May for a moment. The agent raised her eyebrows in response. Charlotte Ebberly handed the paper back to May and sighed. “Well, it’s been quite a few years; I guess time heals even the worst wounds.”

May exhaled slowly. She’d found the first piece of this puzzle.

“Please, Miss Chan, sit.” She motioned toward a vinyl arm chair as she pulled her own chair from her desk. 

May easily slid into the chair, crossing her feet at the ankle, dreading having to sit in this uncomfortable skirt and relishing the fact that none of her team was there to witness it.

“Lyla was an odd duck.” Charlotte began. May nodded. “Kept to herself mostly, quiet, mousy actually. She dressed a bit dowdy for a teen, almost like she was trying to be invisible. I saw her a lot for stomach trouble, but she never asked to be sent home. Never seemed to want to go home.”

May nodded, already knowing the why of the story.

“She came to me once, all upset about the fact that her family was taking in a foster child. She was adamant that she did not want that child in the house, odd for a girl so quiet to be so jealous of a small child.” Charlotte paused as if trying to recall some long forgotten detail. “It was a little girl, yes, I’m sure it was a little girl. I asked her why, but she just kept saying that kid couldn’t live in her house. Practically, got hysterical over it.”

May swallowed hard. The girl knew even before Skye was put in that place. “She never gave any inclination why she didn’t want her there?” May asked calmly, just making conversation.

“Not then.” Charlotte shook her head. “I didn’t see her again for weeks. I thought it had all blown over and maybe she was okay with it, after all. Then the accident happened.”

“Accident?” Skye hadn’t mentioned an accident.

“Someone tried to steal her father’s car, ended up driving it into a tree. They never caught whoever it was, but I had some suspicions. I should have said something then. It might have changed things.”

“What happened?” May was getting impatient.

“She came in the next day, stomach again. I asked if everything was alright at home and she simply said she had to get that kid out of her house. I noticed a large bruise on her arm and asked about it, but she just brushed me off. A week later, it was a moot point.” The woman shook her head and May was tempted to use more aggressive interrogation methods. “Would you like a cup of tea?” The woman inquired as she rose and moved toward the instant water heater near her desk.

May gritted her teeth. “No, no thank you.” She took deep breaths and drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair as Charlotte took her time with the tea.

“Have to have my chamomile.” She smiled as she returned to her chair, sipping her steaming brew.

“You were saying.” May forced a smile.

Charlotte took a sip, savoring it for a few seconds before continuing. “Yes, well, about a week later Lyla had a breakdown of some sort, took a baseball bat to almost everything in the house, dishes, television set, knick knacks, windows. If it was smash-able Lyla smashed it. I heard she even went after her parents and the little one. Poor little thing ran off.” She took another sip of her tea. “They didn’t find her for two days, in the park wearing nothing but a nightgown and a pair of mismatched shoes. She wouldn’t even talk to the police and was so hysterical they couldn’t take her back to the house.” She took another sip and shook her head. “I don’t know what ever happened to that little one, never even knew her name. Never saw Lyla again either. I think they may have put her away, but like I said, we never heard anything else.”

May swallowed the anger. She wanted to hate this woman for not saving those children, but the secret was well hidden and Lyla had done what she could to protect Skye as well as to save her. When she found this woman she would thank her immensely. “Do you know what happened to her father?” May asked through clenched teeth.

Charlotte continued sipping her tea and pursed her lips as she shook her head. “I think his name was Paul. I only met him once, I don’t remember why. He was a mechanic, always in work clothes, always smelled like motor oil.”

If she had any doubts before, May was now sure she had the beast. The closer she got the more she could see him suffer. She quickly thanked the nurse for the information and made her way back through the halls to the main entrance. Once in the SUV she switched on her com and contacted Fitz.

“I need everything you can dig up on Paul Broschette and I need it yesterday.” She barked at the young engineer.

“May?” He seemed surprised. “I think you might want Skye. This seems to be more her area than it is mine. I’m sure…”

“If I wanted Skye, I’d contact Skye.” She growled. “Get the information to me ASAP and no one else, NO ONE, understand Fitz?” She didn’t even attempt to hide the threat.

An hour later, Fitz came through. Paul Broschette was a 55 year old mechanic living alone in a small apartment, still here in Sacramento, a block away from an elementary school. He had been married to Elena Simpson until she passed away two years ago. They had one daughter Lyla who also lived alone in Plainfield. They were estranged and had been for the past 15 years. He had several DUI’s and had lost his driver’s license permanently because of it. No other records existed. She had Fitz triple check… nothing. And there was no record of the Broschett’s ever taking in a foster child. Someone had done a very good job at covering up what happened.

May changed, slipping into her black ops bodysuit as if it were a second skin. It took less than fifteen minutes to locate Broschett’s apartment. She parked across the street casing the building with practiced ease. Second floor, far right… she watched for any signs of inhabitants. 

It would be dark soon. She would wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is complete and will be posted ASAP. Hopefully there will be some interest, (Yes, author is a bit skittish in the confidence department)


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye's awake....she's sore...she's confused...and she needs to find May

III

Skye rolled over and winced at the dull pain in her backside. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the clock. Four forty-five…she dropped back and rubbed the sore spot behind her. It felt like a bee sting. She looked around her small bunk and wondered how a bee could have even gotten in the Bus let alone her bunk. She hopped out of bed intending to find a mirror to examine the damage the nasty little critter had caused when her door swooshed open admitting Jemma.

“Skye?” 

“Jemma?”

They spoke simultaneously.

“How are you feeling?” Jemma inquired with a wide smile, reaching out to place a hand on Skye’s forehead.

“What are you doing up so early?” Skye asked at the same time, dodging Jemma’s hand.

Jemma shook her head and again attempted to feel the girl’s head. Skye waved her away, backing to her bed and sitting down hard with a wince.

“Skye, it is late afternoon.” Jemma admonished as she reached across the bunk and lifted the window covering to admit the late day sun.

Skye blinked at the brightness. “Wha..”

Jemma pulled a thermometer from her lab coat pocket and quickly placed it against Skye’s temple while she still stared at the small window. It beeped quietly and the young doctor smiled. “Perfectly normal.”

Skye stood again and grabbed the small instrument from Jemma. “Why wouldn’t it be? Why did all of you let me sleep all day? And why the hell does my butt feel like it’s been stung by a hornet the size of a pit bull???” She threw her arms in the air and spun back on the petite doctor.

“Oh, that…well that was…well…” Jemma hedged and Skye spread her hands out in front of her raising her eyebrows in question. “Well, May told me you were a bit under the weather. She strongly suggested I give you something to knock you out for a bit. So, I uh…well, I um…” She spun her finger a bit then pointed toward Skye’s backside.

“YOU MEAN YOU STABBED MY BUTT!!??” Skye squeaked throwing both hands behind her and backing up to her bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Skye.” Jemma explained. “I am a doctor and it is not like I haven’t seen your bum before.”

“Well, thank you very much for that picture, Dr. Simmons.” Skye shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

“You were shot, Skye…I had to…” Jemma blanched at the memory.

“And how did I get here?” Skye suddenly remembered falling asleep in the common room.

“We helped you to your bunk.” Jemma began.

“We?” Skye’s eyes went wide.

“Yes, well Fitz and I got you into your bunk and…”

“Fitz!?” 

Jemma wrinkled her brow, then realized Skye’s dilemma. “Oh, no, no, no. Fitz was a perfect gentleman. He excused himself before I…well, before the um…injection.” She blushed in spite of herself.

For a beat the two friends merely stared at each other. “I can’t believe you stabbed me.” Skye shook her head and massaged the throb again.

“Really, Skye,” Jemma admonished, “it was just a little pinch.” She rubbed her thumb and index finger together.

“Yeah, well…well, don’t ever do that again.” She shook her finger at the young doctor.

Jemma smiled. “I only do what is necessary, Skye. And I am glad you are feeling better.”

Skye thought back to the conversation she had had with May that morning and simply nodded. “Yeah, a lot better.” She smiled. “Have you seen May? I’d like to… ah… let her know I’m feeling better.”

Jemma moved toward the door. “She’s been gone all day. She didn’t say anything. I mean not that she does and if she did she would not share that information with me.” Jemma laughed. “I am glad you’re feeling better, Skye, but you should really eat something. Get dressed and meet us in the kitchen. I think some nice warm broth should be splendid.”

Skye curled her lip. “Yum,” she whispered as Jemma stepped out and closed the door. Subconsciously nibbling on her thumb nail she sat on the edge of the bed. May certainly wouldn’t have told anyone about their discussion, she was the epitome of secret keeping. So why tell Simmons she was sick. “And why have her stick me with sleeping potion?” Skye asked herself out loud. She stood and began pacing. “She knew I was upset, not sleeping, but I didn’t need knock-out drugs. Why would she do that…unless…” She stopped and shook her head and reached for her laptop surprised it was not in its usual spot. Turning she searched the small area that was her bunk, even lifted the blankets on her bed. It wouldn’t be the first time she fell asleep with it and found it under her pillow or tangled in the bed clothes the next morning. She pushed open her door and stepped into the common room visually scanning each table and counter then dropping to her knees and checking under the same. She crawled along the edge of the couches searching under each until she bumped head first into a pair of spit-shined black shoes. She looked up slowly.

“Lose something?” Coulson asked tilting his head to look at her.

Skye pulled herself to her feet feeling the blush on her cheeks. “I…ah…my, my laptop…not,”

“You’re a bit flushed,” Coulson commented with concern. “May said you weren’t feeling well. Maybe you should go see Simmons.”

“Ah, ha, ha…” Skye replied bringing her hands to her cheeks. “No, no, Simmons has done enough for me already.” She backed away from the director ignoring his look of confusion then turned and lifted the pillows on the couch still searching for her computer. 

Coulson stood watching as she made her way around the area coming up empty. “Where’d you see it last?” He asked that question that every parent has asked every child searching for lost belongings.

Skye rolled her eyes before she turned to give the answer every child really wanted to give. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be looking now, would I?

Coulson shrugged his shoulders and raised his brows. “You must have been pretty sick not to know where you left that. I mean it is your right arm, isn’t it?”

Something in his voice was teasing and she wasn’t sure what it was. “Do you know where it is?” She spun and pointed at him. “Do you have it? Did I do something and you felt you needed to take it?” She stepped closer with each question stopping immediately in front of him.

Coulson merely smiled and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I do not have your computer and I do not know where it is.”

Skye let out a breath and rested her forehead on his chest. “Where’s May?” She almost whined.

Coulson let out a silent chuckle. “I am sure May does not have it either.”

Skye shook her head without moving it from his chest. “I just want to know where she is,” she sighed.

“Said she had some personal business to take care of, should be back sometime tonight, maybe tomorrow. She didn’t really say.”

“Personal?” Skye pulled back and looked up at him.

“That’s what she said.”

“I gotta find that laptop!” Skye exclaimed turning away from him and walking into Jemma as she entered the area.

“Skye,” the young doctor smiled. “Come now, I’ve got that broth for you. We’ll get you nourished and then it’s back to bed with you.”

Skye held up a hand. “I’m fine, people, fine. I don’t need any broth,” she grimaced, “and I really don’t need any more sleep. I need to find my laptop and then I’m going to find May.”

“I think she might be delirious.” Coulson remarked calmly.

“Agitated, at best,” Jemma sighed.

“Might need another dose of whatever that was you gave her earlier,” he shook his head and folded his arms in front of him.

Simmons reached a hand into her lab coat pocket and withdrew a rather mean-looking hypodermic. “You might have to hold her down.” She raised her brows at him and he nodded.

“Whoa…oh…ho, ho, ho…” Skye’s eyes grew wide as she put her palms out in front of her, backing away from them. “Ya know that broth sounds really good. I think I’ll just grab a mug of it and take it back to my bunk.” She inched her way around the opposition and into the galley grabbing the mug from the table and taking a large gulp of the lukewarm concoction. “Mmmm, so good,” she choked as she continued backing away toward her bunk. “Yep, feeling sooooo much better and soooooo,” she feigned a yawn, “tired….so tired. I think I’ll just go right to bed. Yep probably sleep til morning…night, night.” She backed into her bunk and pulled the door closed, punching in the code that would lock it.

Coulson and Simmons watched the girl straight-faced. As Skye’s door swished shut Jemma raised her hand to her mouth stopping the laughter before it escaped. Coulson merely smiled and shook his head. 

“Are you sure she’s okay?” He nodded toward her door without turning to the young doctor.

“I’m sure.” Jemma replied as she twirled the large hypodermic between her fingers. “I guess I’ll return this to the kitchen.”

“I thought it looked like the poultry infuser. Nice bluff, though.” He turned and walked toward the stairs to his office. “Keep me in the loop.” He remarked without turning back to her.

Jemma smiled and nodded as she headed back to the galley.

Skye stood and stared at her door half expecting to hear a knock she fully intended to ignore. She glanced at the tea colored liquid in the cup in her hands and grimaced. ‘Ugh, this stuff is like panther pi…”

The soft knock cut off her quiet comment. She froze knowing Coulson could override the lock if he wanted or felt the need. 

“Skye?” It was a bit more than a whisper, but she recognized Fitz’ voice and slid the door open just a crack.

“I…I thought you might be looking for this…,” he turned her laptop sideways to fit it through the crack. “I found it on the floor and put it up for you…I…I forgot I had it until…well until a few minutes ago.” He pushed it forward a bit then pulled it back realizing it would not fit through the small opening she had provided.

”Where’s Jemma?” She breathed as she opened the door enough to grab the item and trade Fitz for the mug she still held. “Get rid of this!” She ordered. “And don’t tell.” She pulled the laptop inside and quickly closed the door again leaving a very confused engineer staring at the mug now in his hands.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May locates her target, waits patiently for her opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short chapter....

IV 

May watched the hulk of a man lumber from the beat-up pickup truck into the building she had been surveiling for the past few hours. She had no reference for the slime but she was sure this was him. The others who had entered in the past twenty minutes were a young African-American couple each carrying a grocery bag and giggling over some silliness and an older woman who appeared to be arguing with someone on her cell phone. That woman paused and watched as the pick up rumbled to a stop in the small parking lot and he slid out. He glanced at her and she glared at him before quickly unlocking her first floor apartment door and moving inside. He smiled a snide smile and threw her a rude hand gesture as he pulled a bag from the bed of the truck and made his way to the stairs that lead to a second floor apartment.

He turned the key and punched open the door, tripped inside then closed it with a loud slam that May was sure was done mainly to aggravate his downstairs neighbor. She watched as the light in the far corner came on and his shadow crossed in front of the window as he walked back and forth through the small rooms. She’d let him settle in, get comfortable in his routines before rocking his world…before she decided if he’d see the next sunrise through swollen slits that were his eyes or if perhaps he’d already seen his last sunrise. The more she thought about what he’d done…what he’d tried to do to her kid…the more she leaned toward the latter.

 

‘Her kid…’ The thought rang in her mind. When had she started feeling that Skye was her kid? Phil, now he was a different story. Phil had made that street-smart, wise-cracking brat his kid the first time he pulled that sack off her head. One look at her and he was head over heels and she just couldn’t understand. He had no connection to the girl. He’d never laid eyes on her until the day he pulled her out of that van, but still he looked at her and talked about her as if he had brought her into the world on his own. She silently laughed at that image. She’d asked him one day, asked him what’s the deal with this kid. He smiled that goofy smile and said, “She reminds me of you.”

She wanted to smack him, smack him sillier than he was looking at her, but she simply exhaled and walked away. At that point she thought the girl was pulling a con and she’d use his misplaced fatherly love to break his heart…and she almost did. When she pulled that stunt in Hong Kong with that jerk Miles, she watched as Phil swallowed his hurt and tried to hide it behind his anger, but she knew it was there. For as much as she could squash her own pain she felt Phil’s like a veil of hot sticky electrodes. It was hard to shake and shake was what she wanted to do to Skye that day and then beat her within an inch of her life.

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. For as much as she’d tried to block the girl out, Skye was just too hard to avoid. She just grew on you. No matter how hard May tried to dislike the girl, the more endearing she became continuously surprising her with her abilities and aptitude, her resourcefulness and resilience. 

Then that bastard Ian Quinn tried to take her away, cross her out…she regretted she’d only breaking his nose when she wanted to break his neck. Skye had been defenseless, innocent…stupid to go there alone, but so much Skye…and he almost took her from them. She tried to shake off the memory but realized that was the moment, the moment Skye became her kid and the need to keep her safe grew stronger, the pride in her growth and accomplishments deeper and the need to avenge all the wrongs done to the girl in her short life even more intense.

Teaching Paul Brochette to keep his hands off little girls would satisfy some of that intensity. Payback for touching her little girl would do even more. 

Melinda May opened the SUV’s door and stepped into the gathering darkness of early evening.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye finds a clue, but also finds herself quite queasy

V

Skye plopped down on her bed and pulled her legs criss cross in front of her, opening the laptop and grimacing at the fact that it had been turned off. She quickly hit the on button and waited for it to start only to notice her battery power was nearly drained. She tossed it to the mattress and bounced up and across her small bunk snatching the power cord from its storage spot. Quickly she attached it to the laptop and the outlet next to her bed. The home screen popped open and her fingers sped across the keyboard immediately tapping into the Bus’ surveillance system. She back tracked fifteen hours watching the interaction between her and May for a few seconds before quickly deleting the footage. To risk being caught she wisely replaced it with a simple loop of an empty common area…no one would suspect a thing…and if for some crazy reason May decided to check it…well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now there were pressing issues.

She switched to footage from the cockpit. Yep, there was May in her usual spot, doing her usual check of the instrument panel even when they weren’t scheduled to leave until sometime tomorrow. Fast forwarding a bit she caught sight of the older agent exiting and followed her progress across the screens to the lab. Apparently, that’s when she had told Fitz-Simmons that she was sick. She recognized the look of concern on Jemma’s face as she nodded then turned and gathered what she needed from the supply cabinet. The three agents then moved to the common area and she recognized her own image asleep on the couch. Dr. Simmons, with some help from Dr. Fitz got her up and moving toward her bunk. Skye cursed her self for being so difficult to wake from a deep sleep and watched as they helped her inside. Fitz exited a few minutes later, pulled the door shut and stood waiting until Simmons came out as well. No cameras in the bunks so Skye could only imagine what had happened, suddenly feeling that dull throb in her backside again. She shook her head, then gritted her teeth. She’d been so engrossed in trying to see what they’d done to her; she’d lost sight of May. Rewinding and watching again she realized that after pointing her sleeping self out Agent May had slipped out of camera angle and disappeared. Not a difficult task for a trained agent, a “walk in the park” for Agent Melinda May.

Skye tracked every camera angle and every bit of film from that point until Fitz squeezed her laptop through her door. May had avoided every camera. Certainly, she had left the plane, but when was just as much a mystery as where she went, although Skye had a sick feeling she knew.

For a few moments she stared straight ahead at nothing and softly drummed her fingers on the home keys secure in the soft clicking sounds it made. She chewed her bottom lip with her front teeth and squinted as if trying to bring some small item into focus. Her eyes sprang open as she began to furiously type, reviewing every search, every entry and every outgoing message made in the last twelve hours. May had made one search, albeit an odd one…high schools. She was searching high schools in the area? Skye shrugged her shoulders and narrowed her inquiry…any search made by…by…by whom… Not May, that led nowhere… Coulson? No, she wouldn’t tell him…too many questions. No…who…who? She tapped her fingers again. FITZ! 

“Ah ha! Yes, Fitz, you little computer devil. She’d get you to do it…” She tapped into Fitz’ records and immediately pulled up everything he’d been doing for the day. Most of it made little sense to her, but there it was… She sat back and stared at the name, at the face on the license – older…balder…scarier, was that even possible? 

It was him. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to vomit overtook her again.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May makes contact

VI

The shadow of the hulking moron moved from sight. May reached the top of the stairs without a sound, stopping only once when the apartment door below opened and the young black man tossed something into a trash can. She stepped into the shadows and waited then carefully, slowly tried the man’s door. Unlocked. The idiot hadn’t even locked the door, too stupid or too overconfident to need to keep his place secure.

She stepped into the darkness of his apartment, her sense of smell immediately assaulted by the stench of motor oil and stale beer. Her stomach turned realizing this is what baby Skye had experienced in this monster’s care. If his complicit wife were still among the living, she’d deserve a visit tonight as well. May didn’t plan on spending a lot of time with this piece of trash, just some quality time…

She could hear him rustling through something in an adjacent room; she assumed it to be a bedroom although from the looks of the place he spent most of the time on the sagging couch that took up most of the small living room. Crushed beer cans and overflowing ashtrays littered the area. An old television set, probably one that still used tubes and most likely didn’t even work stood on a dusty table directly across from it. She determined that the soft glow coming from what was probably the kitchen was from either a PC or laptop screen. It flickered every few seconds probably due to pictures flashing or changing. A loud crash and string of cursing caused her to freeze and step closer to the wall.

The man clad only in boxers and a greasy sleeveless T-shirt shuffled back to the table letting out a loud belch and scratching at himself before dropping into the wooden chair. He pulled it closer causing a squeal across the floor. He pushed it away and pulled back a few more times then slammed his bare heel onto the linoleum twice.

“How’ja like that, bitch?” He yelled at the floor before tipping a beer can to his lips and sucking out the last of it’s contents. He crushed the can in his fist and tossed it over his shoulder. It rolled across the floor to join the others strew in front of the crappy couch.

Melinda moved toward the soft light standing no more than three feet behind him. Her stealth kept her hidden. She peered over his shoulder at the screen, swallowing the bile that threatened as she recognized the perverted pedophilia that flickered across the screen. On every terrified face she saw the eyes of innocence…innocence being massacred, stolen, exterminated. She closed her eyes to block it but only saw a small and terrified version of Skye sneaking through a dark house…hiding in a deep closet…slipping under a filthy bed…trembling in front of this monster…escaping into the night…alone…afraid…

The terror that was her child’s and the anger that she could no longer contain burst forth as she let out the growl that would become a scream. She grabbed what little hair he had and smashed his face into the keyboard before him…once…twice…three times. The laptop sputtered once, sparked twice and went dark.

He groaned as his large frame jumped from the chair and his meaty hands slammed down on either side of the now dysfunctional piece of technology. Pulling up his head from where it rested he ran his hand across his mouth wiping the blood that ran from his nose and teeth. He spun to face his attacker.

“WHAT_THE_HELL?!” He snarled, spitting blood and saliva like a drooling dog shaking its muzzle. He swung a fist wildly at the space May had already vacated. Wiping more blood and the pain induced tears that had formed in his eyes away, he growled as he picked up the chair and smashed it down onto the floor. It splintered under his weight and his anger. He turned in all directions searching for the person he would break in half before tossing him down the concrete stairs outside his door. 

But May was faster. She was behind him before he had a chance and with one well placed kick to his posterior sent him flailing forward onto the table top. The legs gave out and it collapsed as a whole taking him with it, the crunch of the laptop being crushed beneath him almost satisfying. He snarled again and pushed himself to his hands and knees then spun and sat down hard. Bits of plastic stuck to his exposed skin, the flattened laptop now scattered across the wood of the table top.

“Who’s there?” He demanded, pulling himself to his feet. “I’ll kill you, you bastard!” He brought his fists up before him stepping back onto the bits of broken plastic and metal that was a few minutes earlier a computer. He didn’t react to the pain, but surveyed the damage and spit blood to the floor. “Oh, yull pay for that too. I’ll take it out of yur hide when I cave yur skull in!” He screamed to the darkness.

May only smiled and stepped carefully avoiding any piece of debris that would give away her location. She circled him like a predator advancing on its prey. With one kick to his temple she spun him toward her and landed a second kick to his diaphragm effectively knocking the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around his middle and gasped for breath. She took a few seconds deciding to let him revive before she continued. He took a deep gasping slurp of air and she drove her fist into his jaw knocking him back but just shy of knocking him over. No that was for the second punch with her opposite hand to his opposite jaw. Once again the lug found himself sprawled out across the computer debris. 

He pulled himself up and used his T-shirt to wipe the blood from his face. Again he shook his head like an animal and spit onto the floor. May moved into the darkness of the living room as he stood gathering what was left of his senses. Her breathing remained calm, her heart beat steady. His was not, but he drew several long breaths and stood still listening for any clue that would locate his attacker. He backed up into the cabinets ignoring the stabs the small plastic fragments did to his bare feet. He reached behind and pulled open a drawer. 

She heard the rattle of metal utensils and knew he was searching for a weapon…more than likely a knife. She smiled. She’d enjoy the challenge. 

He wouldn’t.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Simmons gets a bit tougher with her patient

VII

Skye covered her mouth and dashed from her bunk down the spiral stairs to the bathrooms passing a still confused Fitz on her way. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he realized she was in no condition to converse.

“Must be the flu,” he mused to himself. “It is going about.”

“What is?” Coulson asked as he peered around the younger man.

Fitz spun back, surprised by the director’s sudden appearance. “Oh, um…I was…well…Skye just…I think she might be a bit…a bit sick again, sir.” He pointed in the direction the girl had run. 

Coulson tapped his com. “Simmons, I think you’d better check on Skye.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl answered immediately. “I’ll be right up.”

“She’s probably in the lu, Simmons.” Fitz explained. “She looked a bit green when she ran past just now.” He looked at Coulson and frowned. “I hope she made it, sir.”

Coulson raised his eyebrows and nodded before making his way toward the lab. “Maybe, she’d be better off in the med bay for now.” He remarked to Simmons through his own com.

Jemma knocked lightly on the lavatory door. “Skye?” She called softly. “Skye, are you alright? Skye?” She waited a few seconds and listened intently at the door, the sounds from within were vague but as a doctor she recognized the sound of someone being quite ill. “Skye,” her voice became stronger, more ‘doctorly’. “Skye, I’m coming in.” She informed the girl as she pushed the door open and entered moving to toward the sound. 

Finding Skye sitting against the tiled wall with both hands resting across her midsection, eyes closed, Jemma knelt down beside her. She rested a hand on the younger girl’s wrist and felt the rapid pulse then raised the back of her hand to Skye’s forehead and frowned. 

“I’m not sick, Jemma. I’m really not.” The girl breathed without opening her eyes.

“Mmm, hmm,” Jemma nodded. “Can you walk?” Jemma asked as she rose to her feet and attempted to help Skye to do the same.

“Of course, I can walk,” Skye snipped pulling away from the young scientist. Her knees wobbled a bit and she braced herself against the wall.

“Uh huh,” Jemma humored her as she wrapped her arm around the girl’s waist and took Skye’s arm over her shoulder, holding on to her hand as they moved toward the door.

“I just threw up my appendix, one kidney and half my liver…” Skye smiled, “how do you expect me to feel?”

Jemma shook her head, “You do know that is physically impossible, don’t you?” She pushed open the restroom door with her foot and stepped out to a waiting Coulson. Fitz stood a few feet away, ever cautious of any chance of being dowsed with bodily fluid.

Coulson didn’t hesitate but scooped up the wobbly girl in his arms.

“Come on!” Skye whined. “Really?”

“Take her to med bay, director. She’ll be staying there until I decide she is well enough to be up and about.”

Coulson made the short distance to the bay and deposited the still protesting girl onto the bed. Jemma immediately went into doctor mode, pulling out stethoscopes and blood pressure cuffs, forcing Skye to lye down and to be quiet.

A few minutes later she announced that the girl had a slight fever. She planned on doing some blood work and giving her something to help her sleep. Skye shook her head and tossed her legs over the edge of the bed.

“No, no, no,” she grumbled for the umpteenthed time. “I’m okay, please just let me go back to my bunk and finish what I was doing, please.”

Jemma crossed her arms over her chest. “You are a very difficult patient.”

“Because, I’m not.”

Jemma scowled.

“I’m not a patient because I’m fine.” Skye bounced to the floor and took a step toward the exit.

“Director, I’m afraid I’m going to need your help.” Jemma shook her head.

Coulson furrowed his brow. “Skye, get back in bed and do as your doctor says.”

Skye’s mouth dropped open with a slight laugh.

“And that’s an order.” He finished in his best director’s voice.

She stared at him for a moment. He stared back. She wasn’t going to win. Sliding back onto the bed she sighed, “Can I at least have my laptop, please?” She looked from Coulson to Jemma and then back. They looked at each other. Coulson shrugged his shoulders as Jemma frowned.

“For a little while,” she agreed, “just until the medicine starts working.”

Skye slid off the bed again, smiling widely. 

“Oh, no, Fitz will get it.” She held a hand on Skye’s shoulder as she turned toward him. “Won’t you Fitz?” He nodded and made to leave as she jerked her head toward the bed and Skye sat back down. Jemma excused herself with an unspoken warning for Skye in her nod toward Coulson.

Skye watched her move back toward the medical supplies and inched her way toward the edge of the bed. Coulson shook his head, took her ankles and placed her legs on the bed, pulling the light blanket over her.  
“Please, AC, I have to find May before she does something…”

Coulson raised his eyebrows in question and she paused, pulling at the blanket he was fussing over.

“Something…something she…I…think…she shouldn’t…might…” she stumbled over the words, not sure how to explain. “I just have to talk to her, please, AC.”

“I told you she was out on something personal. You can talk to her when she gets back. I will make sure she comes to see you as soon as she checks in.” He stepped aside as Jemma returned with a small tray.

“Okay, Skye,” she smiled as she picked up the hypodermic from the tray and pushed a tiny bit of fluid from it. “Just a little pinch and we’ll be done for now. Director, if you can give us a bit of privacy?”

Coulson stepped toward the door as Jemma moved toward her patient. “You just turn a bit on your side. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

Skye’s eyes widened as she pulled the blanket up to her chin and shook her head rapidly.

“Oh, come now, Skye, stop being such a baby.” She stared at the girl, waiting for her to comply then let out a deep sigh. “Do I need the Director’s help with this as well?”

Coulson stopped as he stepped across the threshold and turned back. Skye caught his eyes over Jemma’s shoulder. She blinked a few times then looked back at Jemma and shook her head slowly. She watched until she was sure the director had exited and closed the door behind him before she slowly turned away from her very pokey doctor.

Coulson stood outside the door and couldn’t help but laugh when he heard, “OUCH! Dammit, Jemma, that was not a little pinch!”

A moment later the young doctor exited the room and patted the director’s arm. “She’ll be fine, sir. Just a bug of some sort, no reason for worry.” She smiled as she moved aside so Fitz, armed with Skye’s computer could enter. “Just until she gets sleepy, understood.” The young man nodded and entered the room.

Skye already seemed drowsy, but Jemma would have known that. She reached to take the laptop from Fitz but he placed it in her lap before she could. She smiled a thank you.

“Jemma says just a bit.”

Skye seemed to ignore the comment as she opened the computer and woke it from sleep mode. Fitz immediately recognized the file.

“Here, what are you doing with that?” He demanded. “This was to be between May and I and no one else. You’ve been hacking again, haven’t you?” He almost scolded reaching for the computer but she pulled it away.

“Please, Fitz,” she slurred, knowing the medicine was beginning to work. “Please find her. Please tell her not to.” 

“Not to what?” Fitz asked catching the computer as it slipped from her grip.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May exacts her revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this over a few times and felt this guy really didn't get quite enough of what May needed to 'give' him....so rewrote a bit. What do you think?

VIII

The brute moved from the cabinets, smiling a bloody smile. He held a large chef’s knife before him. Whoever was targeting him, persecuting him would now be on the defense. Now he held the upper hand. He’d get to the light switch and blind the bastard before he cut out his heart. He’d had it, had it with everything. Living in this crap apartment, dealing with that bitch downstairs that complained to the landlord about him every other week. Denying himself his pleasures since that cow died and left him with nothing. He’d been careful, very careful; ever since they took that crazy girl away, put her away for good. The crazy little bitch. 

She’d broken his fingers that night then knocked him cold before the police subdued her and threw her in an ambulance. He never saw her again and he never regretted it. Got a couple whacks on that fat hag as well, he remembered. Didn’t break anything, but she was bleeding quite a bit before he faded to black. The only thing he did regret was losing that little bit of sweetness. That little Asian beauty he barely got a chance to know. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes to remember her…her smell…her soft skin…her innocence. He sighed. 

He had tried to get her back, tried to tell them that his crazy daughter was gone for good and the little one would be safe, but they felt the situation was unstable and with it removed them from the system. They would never have another foster child. 

So he hunted and he watched and he snuck around playgrounds and restrooms, looking, hoping he’d find her or someone like her. He’d come close a few times and he’d almost been caught more than once. It scared him enough to resort to using cyber methods. He hated it, but it was all he had…for now.

He slid along the cabinets to the wall and then to the doorframe. Sliding his hand up and down the crumbling wallpaper, he searched for the light switch. Finally laying his slick fingers on it he flicked it up and cursed loudly when the room remained in darkness.

May had made sure of that, cutting the power, to this apartment only, before making her way up the steps. She almost laughed at his defeat.

“I know yur there.” He growled toward the sagging couch not realizing May was inches from his face. “Waddya want,” he laughed and coughed a wet cough, “cuz if yur here to rob me, I ain’t got nuthin.” He waited for a reply that would not come. “Why doncha come out and fight like a man, stedda hidin in the dark…ya fraid I might get dupper hand, arncha…dumb bastard.” 

He swung the knife left to right apparently searching the darkness as he took a step forward.

May grabbed the wrist holding the knife and snapped it back with a crack. The knife fell to the floor and she kicked it away as he slid to his knees pulling his broken limb to his chest. He let out a squeal anything but manly as she stepped into view.

“I won’t fight you like a man,” she snarled quietly, “because there are no men here.”

His face twisted as he tried to see her in the dark. “Who the hell…”

The punch to his face stopped his question as he stepped back then staggered forward. The next kick landed between his legs and brought him down with a crash. He grabbed at his manhood with his good hand, unable to speak as he sat back on his legs and leaned forward then back, attempting to rock away the immeasurable pain.

May stepped into the darkness once more retrieving the tossed away knife. She flipped it from hand to hand, testing its weight, then rubbed the edge of her thumb across the blade…dull…dull as its owner. She smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she stepped toward him slowly.

He still knelt on the floor, his broken wrist tucked under the opposite arm, the other hand massaging the pain from between his legs. He continued to rock and blink away the tears that had formed. Blood still ran from his nose and teeth. “Why?” he rasped, barely audible.

May tossed the knife, flipping it in the air and catching it easily without looking as she moved slowly toward him.

He tried to crawl backward, but was unbalanced and blocked by the rubble behind him. He was trapped. Sweat poured from his head, his arms glistened with it, the close air of the apartment reeked of it. 

May stepped next to him and drew the edge of the knife across his chest, over his shoulder and across his back as she walked around him snatching the computer’s hard drive from the floor as she did. She dragged the knife in a full circle stopping in front of him with the point just under his chin. 

“I saw your pictures.” She purred.

He snorted. “You destroyed them.”

She held the hard drive between two fingers and smiled. He swallowed hard.

“You like little girls.” She snarled, not asking, simply making a statement.

“I don’t even know you.” He forced out.

She slapped the point of the knife against his chin causing his head to bounce back. A small sliver of blood ran from the scratch the dull implement made. In one swift move she brought the hilt of the knife down across the side of his head knocking him over. He rolled to his back spread eagle with a groan, both arms splayed to his sides. She stepped between his spread legs, squatted down on her haunches and poked the large knife roughly into his manhood.

He began to cry, real tears, sobs that brought no sympathy. She felt only anger. 

“Please,” he squeaked in a small voice.

She pressed the blade harder and he responded with deeper sobs.

“You hurt my kid,” she whispered. “No one hurts my kid.” 

She twisted the knife slowly, left then right. He let out a scream. “You don’t deserve the air you breathe.” She spat, pulling the knife back and examining it closely. He reached his good hand down to protect himself. She slapped it away. “Take a while to castrate an animal like you with such a dull blade,” she hissed with pleasure as he whimpered and pleaded for some form of pity.

She poked again causing him to jump and squeal. “How’s it feel to have no control…to just wait for the inevitable? Did you care when she cried? Did you? Did you?” She jabbed again and watched a small stain grow on his boxers and turn into a puddle on the floor. She laughed as she stood watching and listening as he apologized and promised and begged.

The anger rumbled inside of her, picturing her tiny child faced with this piece of garbage and him pushing himself on top of her. She pictured taking the knife and driving it through his neck, instead she half kicked, half stomped once between his legs and he lost consciousness. She stood for a moment staring at the blade. He wasn’t worth it. She stood and slammed the knife into the floor half and inch from its target. 

Sirens screamed to a halt outside the apartment building, flashing red lights lighting up the room as she slipped out the bedroom window, dropping silently to the ground. They’d find him and he’d recover…physically. They’d find the hard drive as well. She’d tucked it into his boxers leaving a note pinned to his shirt that would lead them to the evidence needed to put him away for a very long time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May returns, Skye feels better...almost

IX

May pulled the SUV into the Bus, noticing Fitz waiting on the spiral staircase. He sat close to the bottom step with what looked like Skye’s laptop in his grasp. He looked a combination of worried and exhausted, rising as she approached.

“Where have you been?” He almost demanded. “Skye’s been asking for you all day. She hacked into my files. Whatever it is you didn’t want her to know…” He stopped realizing suddenly the tone he was using with Agent May.

She waited a beat, then raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, wordlessly telling him to continue.

He took a breath and swallowed, reining in his anxiety. “Well, that is…I mean…she knows.”  
He waited for her to explode, to growl, to snarl, to do something May-ish but she just smiled and patted his shoulder.

“I’ll talk to her.” She remarked quietly as she stepped around him to climb the stairs.

He watched for a beat. “Yeah, well, she’s not in her bunk then.”

May stopped and looked down at him.

“We moved her to med bay.” He nodded toward the medical unit. She followed his gaze and walked back down, this time giving him a slight sneer as she took the computer from him and headed toward the lab. “She’s still asleep I expect.” He called after her. 

“Agent May,” Simmons smiled as she noticed May enter.

“How is she?” May asked at the same time.

“Oh, she is doing much better.” The young doctor replied. “Her blood work shows it’s probably a mild case of the flu. Luckily you caught it early and alerted me to the issue, it’s just so hard getting her to rest.” Jemma shook her head then smiled, “but I took care of that, too.” 

May shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Payback is hell, Simmons.”

“Oh, you don’t think…Skye wouldn’t…” Jemma frowned and shook her head. “Oh well, Director Coulson is sitting with her now. They’ll both be glad to see you, I should think.”

May gave a curt nod and turned toward the small room that was normally used to hold patients. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Coulson sat on the one chair in the room, legs crossed at the knee, arms over his chest as his chin bobbed toward the same. His eyes were closed, his breath slow and steady. Skye was asleep as well, curled on her side with her hands tucked under the pillow.

Coulson gave a half snort, half snore as his leg slipped to the floor and he sprang to his feet. “May!” He exclaimed, shaking off sleep and covering a quick yawn. “When did you get back? And where have you been?” He remarked noticing her ops uniform, not something she’d normally wear to take care of anything personal.

“We’ll talk.” She answered as she watched the girl sleep. 

“You okay?”

“Fine. Skye?”

“Been better.”

“Get some sleep.”

“Get cleaned up.”

They paused, staring each other down…or trying to force the other’s hand. As always, it was a stand-off. As always, Coulson gave in if only to settle the unspoken argument.

“I am tired.” He arched his back, rubbing it with both hands. “Chair’s not too comfortable.”

May turned up one side of her lips and gave a curt nod. “I’ll manage.”

He stepped toward the door as she stepped aside. “My office, first light”

She nodded without looking at him.

He smiled and slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

May stepped to the side of the bed and placed the back of her hand against Skye’s cheek, then her forehead. Still a bit warm, but not like she’d been when May had left her on the couch hours ago. 

Skye stirred under her ministrations, squeezing her eyes tight before opening them slightly. She blinked a few times, focusing as she rose slightly on her elbow, then dropped back to the pillow.

“May…” her voice was thick and groggy, still effected by whatever Jemma had jabbed her with earlier.

“Shh,” May warned and she straightened the blanket on the bed. “It’s okay.”

Skye coughed a bit and held her hand to her head feeling a slight buzz. She pushed May’s hands away and attempted to sit up. “No, no, no, not you too,” she moaned, her voice a bit stronger. “I’m NOT sick! Why do you people….whoa…” The girl stopped as she wobbled a bit at the edge of the mattress.

May folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Maybe you should lie down.” She jutted her chin toward the bed.

Skye almost smiled as she eased herself back down. May’s unspoken orders were generally a lot louder than most. For the second time, May straightened the blanket and shook her head.

“I’m not sick.” Skye remarked in a small pouty voice.

May laughed a tiny soundless laugh. “I didn’t tell them that to keep you down, Skye.” She stood back holding her hands stiffly in front of her. “I noticed the fever when we…spoke. I just let Simmons know before I had to leave.”

“Leave,” Skye repeated. “Leave...May, where did you go?” She started to rise again, only to back down under the older agent’s glare.

“I had some business to tend to…had to give someone something.”

“May…you didn’t…” Skye’s eyes widened.

“No more than he deserved, Skye.”

Jemma pulled open the door and stepped into the room, once again carrying her evil little tray of torture instruments. “You’re awake.” She chirped. “Lovely, I’ve got some medicine for you.” At Skye’s grimace she continued, “Last dose. I promise.”

May moved to the opposite side of the bed as Skye turned on her side toward her. She reached for the older woman’s hand as Jemma prepared the injection behind her. “Why?” She asked quietly, looking May in the eye.

“Because it will make you feel much better.” Jemma sighed, watching as she held up the hypodermic and spritzed a bit from its tip. 

Skye ignored the remark, waiting for May’s reply.

May looked to Jemma and then bent closer to Skye, squeezing her hand tighter. “Because, nobody hurts my kid,” she whispered close to the girl’s ear as she watched Simmons press the needle to its target.

“Dammit, Jemma!!” Skye protested, squeezing May’s hand just as tight.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue:

A week later, a fully recovered Skye walked up the steps of an intimidating stone-faced building a few steps behind Agent May.

“Are you sure about this, May?” She questioned, staring up at the strange gargoyles that perched above the large door frame. “She probably doesn’t even remember me. I don’t think I’d even recognize her.”

May smirked and reached back to pull the girl forward. She pressed the bell next to the double door and waited for it to open, then gave her a gentle shove inside,

A young man in light blue scrubs escorted them down a long hallway and through a swinging door that led to a large auditorium type room. 

Skye took several deep breaths to calm her self as her eyes darted from one area to another. Two women sat in large arm chairs near a window. Each clicked knitting needles in tandem, creating what looked to be the longest scarves she’d ever seen. Another small group sat at a table playing what looked like Old Maid. Still another group worked on a large puzzle at another table. Throughout the large room groups of people were involved in simple activities while other individuals worked independently. 

Skye looked from face to face; trying to determine which one was Lyla Broschette. 

The young man who had led them to the room was talking quietly to May. She was nodding and looking in the same direction as he. Skye followed that line of vision to a lone woman involved in no activity, simply staring out the farthest window. Her face held no expression. 

Skye tried to imagine the teenager she had know for such a short amount of time becoming this woman. She wanted to run. As a child she didn’t understand why Lyla acted the way she had, as an adult she understood all too well. Her brush with the terror that was Mr. Broschette was nothing compared to what his daughter had endured and Skye felt guilty for thinking the girl heartless.

May had explained what Lyla did, how she had more than likely saved her from the man’s violent sexual abuse. Skye had vehemently denied that she had been molested, saying nothing had happened, but she and May had spoken for hours and eventually she had come to terms with what she had survived. It was then the older agent told her the story of how Lyla had taken a bat and began smashing everything she could that night. She’d used it to smash her father’s hand as he reached for her and then to knock him senseless. She’d held her mother back as well, when the woman tried to stop little Skye from escaping that night. She’d spent years in a mental facility because of it and now…well now…

“Skye…” May tapped her arm and brought her out of her reverie. She looked at her mentor and followed as she made her way across the room toward the woman at the window.

She noticed a second woman, speaking to the woman fixed on the outside view, apparently a nurse or perhaps a doctor. She held a clip board and smiled gently at the woman, resting a hand on her shoulder before squatting down next to her and pointing at something outside. They both smiled.

May and Skye stopped before them. The woman squatting looked over her shoulder at them and rose slowly. Skye took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Hi,” she began, addressing the woman in the chair. “You probably don’t remember me…” She spoke quickly, nervousness in her voice. 

The other woman, who was now standing, rested a hand on Skye’s shoulder. “Honey, she doesn’t talk. She hasn’t for a very long time.”

Skye blinked a few times, trying to quell the tears not far from escaping. “I…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…I…”

May rested her hand on Skye’s giving her much needed support. The young orderly broke the silence.

“Dr. Broschette, these women asked to speak with you. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

The woman smiled, “of course not, Sylas. Can you sit with Helen for a bit then?” He nodded as she turned to May and Skye whose mouth had dropped open.

“Close your mouth, Skye…remember your manners.” May whispered in a small tease then turned to smile at the doctor.

“You?” Skye managed to blurt out as her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.

“Well, I am Dr. Broschette; if that’s the you you’re looking for here?” She smiled again.

“You’re okay.” She exclaimed as she wrapped the woman in a bear hug.

The doctor reacted with a bit of shock looking over Skye’s shoulder to May who simply shrugged and smiled. ‘A patient?’ the doctor mouthed pointing at the girl’s back.

May shook her head and raised a finger indicating she should wait a minute, and then pulled Skye back. “Perhaps we should step back a bit. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Dr. Broschette nodded and led them to her office. They sat and they spoke. Lyla remembered the skinny scared little kid that spent two terrifying weeks in what was supposed to be a home. She apologized for not doing something before her monster father tried to hurt her. Skye protested telling her over and over that she was a kid too and that she saved her, that she saved them both. The doctor told her she had made a long recovery and then with the help of some good people she decided to become a doctor herself and return the favor. She was in fact a psychologist and worked with traumatized patients, like Helen. Skye told her she’d made it as well and her life was going well, leaving out all the secret agent blah-blah. She thanked her again and again for saving her life. 

They parted company burying that part of their past and all of the nightmares for good. 

Skye skipped down the steps of the institute meeting May at the SUV parked at the curb. 

“You left.”

“You were fine, didn’t need me anymore.”

Skye smiled then wrinkled her nose and leaned a bit toward her S.O. “Nah, I still need ya.” She teased.

May rolled her eyes and opened the car door. “Let’s go. We’ve got one more stop.” She remarked dryly as Skye slipped into the passenger seat.

“Where to?” She looked up at May.

“Gotta see a nun about a paddle,” she quipped as she shut the door and turned to walk around the vehicle.

Skye’s head spun to the right watching her go, and then back to the left as May rounded the rear of the SUV. “May! No! You…you wouldn’t…”

May smiled broadly and laughed out loud as she opened the driver’s door and slipped inside. She pulled away from the curb ignoring the protests and arm waving of the girl in the passenger seat.

Maybe she’d notice – in a few miles – they were headed home.


End file.
